Love into the Light
by GeorgiaMay
Summary: After an unexpected break-up, Santana falls off the rails as she tries to find herself again. But with her heart still broken, will anything change her mind about a certain blonde- Even if she needs her help?
1. Chapter 1

**Santana's POV.**

I'm standing on the edge of the roof on my seven storey apartment building, looking down. I wonder how everyone below me can be continuing with their lives like normal when mine feels so completely broken. It makes me hate them all, or maybe I'm jealous of them. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore, and for the first time in my life, I don't think I care.

I watch people walking down below me, completely oblivious to the fact they are being watched. I can see children running along with huge smiles on their faces, a group of teenagers throwing their heads back in laughter, an older man in a business suit talking on his phone and carrying a briefcase, a jogger running along with a small dog in tow...

I look forward, towards the New York skyline around me. It reminds me why I love this city so much. It's perfect and beautiful, but it also reminds me that I don't belong here. Not anymore. New York was the place I had called home for the last four years and now it felt like my worst enemy. I couldn't stand to look at it anymore, to live in it or to even breathe the air in it. It felt toxic and it made me gag. Or at least, it felt like it did.

Not even the six months where I fled helped in any way. I thought moving away would fix it, make me happy. I hadn't thought about how lonely it would be. But running away from my problems wasn't the answer. Your problems are always with you, no matter how far away you run, I was stupid to think they would vanish in a different country.

I hear footsteps rushing behind me, but I don't turn around.

I don't even turn around when they call out my name.

I felt empty, as if my insides had been torn out. The only thing that remained was my slow heart beat to remind me that I was still breathing; and I hated it. I hated every moment of it. I ached all over, and there wasn't anything I'd rather do than drop dead right here. I wanted an escape; I wanted an end to this everlasting nightmare.

"Santana.." her voice cut through my thoughts like a sharp knife, and the tone and the articulation in the way she says it finally made me turn around to face her.

She looked tired and worried. She had every right to be and I instantly felt a rush of guilt flow through me for being the cause of all her pain. Her usually perfect blonde hair was tousled and messy, as if she had just gotten out of bed and quickly run a hand through it to keep it in place.

The wind whipped through my hair. It felt like it was pushing me, urging me to do it. _Just jump. Do it. Stop being such a coward. _

Her shaky voice breaks the silence again and I am glad for the distraction from my own thoughts. "What are you doing Santana?" I heard the panic in her voice and I saw her eyes beginning to water. What _was _I doing? Suddenly, I felt stupid. This wasn't going to solve anything. I was being selfish.

She cautiously took a step towards me, reaching her hand up for me to take so that she can help me down. She must have sensed that I was having second thoughts, because otherwise she wouldn't have dared to come closer. She'd been my best friend since we were five years old, I practically knew her better than I knew myself.

I hesitantly took her hand in mine, and she carefully helped me get down before pulling me into a tight hug.

The way her shoulders started to heave up and down showed me that she was crying, and guilt washed over me once again. I must be such a burden to her, yet she refuses to ever leave me. But then again, maybe she feels obligated to, like it's her job to take care of me. She has been my only family since my parents died when we were only 12 years old and I moved in with her and her parents and her sister.  
I wrap my arms around her, rubbing soothing circles in her back until her silent sobs evened out. It was the least I could do since I was the reason she was crying. I felt like a jerk.

When I knew she had stopped crying, I pulled back to look into her face. Her hazel eyes were no longer filled with worry and panic, now they were just... tired and sad. I wiped the tears off her pink cheeks and kissed her forehead. It was my way of saying_ 'sorry_', and the way her lips turned up in a small smile showed me that she understood. She walked me over to the middle of the roof, like she was scared that I was going to change my mind and get back on the ledge. She was mad at me, I could tell by the way her lips twitched and her eyebrows were furrowed. Her hands subconsciously clenched and unclenched by her sides, as if it was her way of releasing her growing anger.

"Where have you been the past six months?" Quinn asked. I notice her holding her breath and planting her feet firmly on the ground, prepared to stop me if I tried to make a break for it.

"Relax," I tell her, holding up my hands. "I'm not going anywhere."

Quinn nods her head, but doesn't change her stance. She doesn't trust me. "Where have you been?"

I shrug. "Physically? Everywhere. Emotionally? You don't even want to know.."

Suddenly, her whole demeanour changed. "What the hell were you thinking Santana?" The anger in her voice makes me take a step back, it's so powerful.

"Quinn, I-" but she cuts me off by taking a step forward and slapping me hard across my face. Her cold hand left a quickly reddening mark on my cheek, I could feel it stinging. My hands instantly jump up to cup my burning cheek. I feel tears spring to the corners of my eyes, but I desperately blink them away. I admit, I did deserve that, but _fuck _it hurt. I've seen Quinn slapping many people, but I had never been the target and I instantly felt sorry for all her previous victims.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, and I truly am. My voice comes out in a whisper and I try swallow the lump which has formed in my throat. "I'm sorry, Quinn," I repeat, this time my voice is stronger and doesn't waver.

"I can't believe you would even consider that!" Her voice is still angry and she crosses her arms. I can't help but wonder if she crosses them just to avoid the temptation of slapping me again. "What were you going to do, huh? Just leave me behind?" I see her fingernails digging into her skin, which confirms my previous suspicions; She is trying not to slap me again.

I feel the tears threatening to spill again and I take a deep breath; In through my nose, out through my mouth. "No Quinn, I-"

"You're so fucking selfish sometimes, Santana!" I lower my gaze, unable to look into her furious eyes any longer. I flinch slightly when she places her hand on my shoulder and I slowly lift my head to look at her. The furry seems to have left her eyes and instead, it is replaced with concern.

"Come on, I'll make you some tea and we can talk.." Quinn runs her hand down my arm until our fingers intertwine and after giving my hand a reassuring squeeze, she pulls me back to the safety of my apartment.

I feel extremely vulnerable once we are seated back in my small apartment. I run my finger around the rim of my coffee cup refusing to look up at Quinn. I know she is going to start asking me questions and I'm not sure if I'm ready to answer them.

"How did you find me?" I ask softly. I'm trying to buy some time before she starts firing the questions which I know are on her mind. "How did you even know I was back?"

She sighs heavily. I can tell that she knows I'm procrastinating and I hold my breath hoping she will go along with it and humour me, at least just for a few minutes while I build up the courage to tell her the truth.

"Harry. He told me that he saw you going up to the roof and that he hadn't seen you come down."

Harry is the doorman downstairs. He is an old man, chubby and soft. His belly shakes like a bowl full of jelly when he laughs, and he laughs _a lot. _His hair is snow white, and so is his beard and he is always in a good mood.

I nodded in understanding. I should have guessed he would say something. Harry has always been nice to me, ever since I moved here. I have never really known why, it's not like I'm the nicest person in the world. Quinn has never admitted it, but I know she talked to him and told him to keep his eye on me. It's the kind of thing she would do. She worries about me, it gets annoying sometimes, but it's kind of comforting knowing she will always be there.

"So.." Quinn starts. I knew she wouldn't be able to hold off with the questions for long. Quinn has never been the patient type. I can feel her gaze burning through me, but I fight the urge to look up at her.

"So.." I reply flatly, my fingers still tracing around the ceramic rim on my cup. It seems to relax me a little bit, watching my fingers trace around and around and around in slow, perfect circles. It's sort of hypnotizing.

"I didn't know you felt.. suicidal.." her voice wavers as she speaks the last word and it makes me wince slightly.

"I'm not," I reply. I finally drop my hand back in my lap and look up at her face. She raises her perfectly maintained eyebrow at me. "Not actively, anyway," I add with a small shrug of my shoulders. The way she purses her lips together shows me that she isn't buying one word that I am telling her, so I continue. "I'm not. But if something bad were to happen to me, then I don't think I would necessarily be upset by it either."

Quinn's face softens. "What do you mean, San?"

"Well.. I don't think I would actually have the courage to commit suicide. I mean, take today for example," I furrow my eyebrows as I talk, trying to find the right words. "But.. If I were walking across a road and I saw a car coming straight for me.. I don't think I would get out of the way.."

I know I sound stupid and vulnerable and weak. I can't help it. Quinn leans forward in her seat, and the way she is looking at me makes me think that she understands. But she doesn't, not really.

"San.." she bites her bottom lip softly before she continues. "I'm really worried about you. I think maybe you should see someone."

"What, like a shrink or something?" Quinn nods her head. "No. No way."

Quinn sighs exasperatedly. "Do you always have to be so damn stubborn Lopez?" She runs a hand through her hair in frustration.

I huff and roll my eyes. "I'm not going to go lie on a couch in some random persons office and tell him all about my life while he sits there judging me." Quinn closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She's getting angry again and she's trying to calm herself down.

"Fine," she replies after taking a deep breath and opening her eyes. "Talk to _me _then, Santana. How long have you been feeling depressed?"

_Since she left me. _

_Since my heart got broken. _

I shrug softly. "I don't know," I lie. I don't tell her the reasons which run straight into my head. I know I should, but I can't.

"Santana, we have been friends since we were little kids, I know when you are lying to me. If you keep this up then I am taking you straight to see someone, even if I have to knock you out and carry you there myself," her voice is stern, so I know she is being completely serious. Sometimes I forget how well she knows me.

Quinn sighs again when she see's that I'm not about to start talking despite her threat. She knows better than anyone at how bad I am about talking about my feelings. "You have to get over her one day you know, San," she says.

I narrow my eyes and look at Quinn. "I still love her, Quinn. Two and a half years later and I still fucking love her."

"I know," Quinn tells me, throwing me a sympathetic look. "It might help you to talk about it, rather than keep it to yourself."

I raise my eyebrow suspiciously at my best friend. "Is this your way of getting me to spill my guts to you?"

"Is it working?" Quinn asks, a small smile playing around on her lips. Quinn can be pretty persistent when she wants to be. It is how she became the Cheerios captain and Prom Queen at school, it's how she kept getting promoted in her job until she landed the manager's job when he retired.. Anything Quinn wants, she gets. Which is how I know I am going to end up caving and telling her everything.

"Fine," I say after a short pause. "But if I talk to you, I don't have to talk to anyone. No way in hell am I going to see a shrink."

"Deal," Quinn says, sticking her hand out so we can shake on it, then she leans back in her seat waiting for me to start talking.

"So, you want to hear my story Fabray?" I take a deep breath. "I guess it starts that night, two and a half years ago..."

* * *

**Authors note:  
Hey, thank you for reading. I hope you like the start of this story, please let me know your thoughts and if I should continue writing it.  
Please leave a review, your thoughts are all appreciated :)  
I know where I am going with this story, it's unlike any Brittana story I have ever read on here, so you will have to keep posted to see what I mean or PM me for a hint ;)**

xox GMC


	2. Chapter 2

**Brittany's POV. Two and a half years ago.**

There were too many stars out that night. It's like they were warning me. Warning me not to do it. But I didn't hear their warnings.

The stars glistened like thousands of bright diamonds in a sea of the black abyss. But I didn't notice them.

I continued walking towards the house, past the rose garden I had helped plant just last year. I was completely oblivious to the stars' warning, yet somehow deep down, I could feel her watching me through the window. I could feel her eyes burning through my soul, demanding the truth from me. But I could not tell her the truth. The truth was that I loved her. But that wasn't the whole truth. I know I'm about to lose her, but I have to tell her. I can't lie to her. If only I could reverse time and change what happened. If only she had have been there. _If, if, if. _So many if's I have in my mind.

I take a deep breath to help with my nerves, and knock on the front door. I can hear muffled voices on the other side and I wonder if Santana is warning them not to let me in, but then the door swings open.

"Hi Brittany," Alma Lopez says smiling up at me. "What a nice surprise, I haven't seen you in a while."

I nod slowly. Santana must not have told her that we had a fight. "Hey Alma," my voice comes out croaky, and I cough to clear my throat. "Is Santana here?" I know she is, but I'm trying to be polite. Plus, every second that I spend talking to Santana's grandmother is buying me time to work out exactly what to tell Santana when I eventually see her.

The fact that Santana chose to run away to her grandmother's shows me how bad this is. Santana and her grandmother haven't really gotten along since Santana told her that she loved girls instead of boys. Her grandmother had only recently come to accept her back into her home.

Alma steps aside to let me in. "She's in her room sweet heart."

"Thanks," I manage to mumble as I step into the large house. I walk up the stairs and knock twice on Santana's bedroom door. When there is no reply, I slowly open it.

Santana is lying on her bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. She doesn't bother looking fully at me as I enter even though I know she is watching me out of the corner of her eye.

"San.." I try get her attention. I want her to look at me properly, but she doesn't. I step further into the room and close the door behind me. "Please talk to me San."

A small silence fills the room, and I take a seat on the end of her bed. Finally, she sits up and faces me. She doesn't look angry, she doesn't look happy. She just looks... neutral.

"You've been acting really weird. What's going on with you?" She crosses her arms defensively.

"I know.."

"There's something you aren't telling me," it's not a question, it's a statement. The confidence in that one sentence throws me off a bit.

"San-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"What is it? Are you breaking up with me?" Her bottom lip quivers as if she is about to start crying and I have to look away to fight the urge to pull her into a hug. She didn't need a hug right now, she needed the truth.

"No.." I whisper.

"Then what is it Brittany? You have been avoiding me like the plague for the past two weeks!" I look into her eyes, they are darker than normal. Angrier. Sadder. They glisten with unshed tears which makes my heart clench. Santana never cries. She is the toughest person I know.

"I.. I'm.."

"Spit it out Brittany," she says through a clenched jaw.

"Santana.. I'm.. I'm pregnant.." My confession comes out so softly, that for a minute I'm sure she didn't hear me, but then Santana jerks back, unable to stop the flash of hurt from shooting through her. It makes my heart clench.

"You're... what?" she spits. She doesn't wait for an answer before she is asking her next question. "When?" Her voice sounds so small and sad. I have never heard her sound so defeated.

I hang my head. "Four weeks ago.. At Kurt's party..." I watch as Santana's brow furrows as she tries to remember what I'm talking about it.

"The weekend I came here to visit my grandmother?" I nod my head weakly. "What the fuck Brittany!" I feel my shoulders tense up as she starts to yell.

"San.."

"Who?" Santana asks through gritted teeth.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. Who was it with?" I chance a glance upwards. I can tell she is desperately trying not to let the tears fall. Santana hates people seeing her weak side and I hate myself for doing this to her. She has always been good at putting up her walls, but I always catch the flashes of sadness in her eyes. I hate that she feels like I no longer deserve to see her cry. I _don't _deserve to, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt.

"Ben." Santana scrunches her nose up in confusion.

"Who the hell is Ben?"

"He is friends with Kurt and Blaine."

Santana furrows her eyebrows. "What the _fuck _Brittany? I can't believe you would actually _cheat _on me!"

I felt a pang in my heart at those words. I hated myself. I couldn't believe I had done it either. "I'm so sorry Santana.."

Santana shakes her head furiously from side to side. "Un-fucking-believable!" She stood up from her bed and started pacing around the room. "Why did you do it?" She asks, turning back around to face me and stopping in her tracks. "Why?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly. It wasn't a lie, I didn't know what possessed me to do it. "I was.. I was drunk and I was lonely.. and you weren't there.."

"What, so because I wasn't there it gives you permission to sleep with other people? Do I mean _nothing _to you Brittany?" I felt my bottom lip tremble at her harsh tone. I couldn't help but notice that since I told her, she was only calling me by my full name. I couldn't even remember the last time she didn't use my nickname. It made this hurt so much more.

"San! You mean everything to me!" My eyes were pleading for her to believe me.

"Obviously not _Brittany," _she spat acidly. She didn't believe a word I was telling her

"Stop doing that," I shot back at her.

"Doing what?" She asked, crossing her arms in frustration.

"Saying my name like it's a curse word or something."

"Well _sorry Brittany,_" she said sarcastically. "I cannot believe you did this."

I sighed and hung my head. "I know, okay. I hate myself for it and I know it's not an excuse, but I was drunk. I don't even remember it happening! It meant nothing to me, I swear San!"

"But now you're pregnant Brittany. Are you keeping the baby?"

"..I can't just kill it, San," I replied with a small pout.

Santana throws her hands up. "Well, that's decided then. You're having a baby. With the guy you cheated on me with. _Me, _Brittany. Your _girlfriend!" _She was furious. I always knew about her 'snix' side and I had witnessed it numerous times, but she never, ever directed it at me. It was honestly a little bit scary. Until now, Santana had never even raised her voice at me.

"San, I'm so sorry-" but she cut me off by putting her hand up.

"Don't. Just don't even try explain yourself. I can't even look at you right now," her head hung in defeat. "Please Brittany. Please, just... Just go."

"San..."

"Not now, Brittany." She turned her back to me, so that she was looking out her window. There was nothing I could do right now. Santana was the most stubborn person I knew, right now, all she needed was time. I had to give it to her, or I might lose her completely.

"Okay. But please San. Call me so we can talk," I tried to make my voice not sound too hopeful, but I don't think it worked.

I took one last look at her, before I turned around and left. Even when I felt her gaze on me as I was walking down the street, I still didn't glance back in her direction. I didn't want her to see the tears which were streaming down my face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Santana's POV one and a half years ago.**

"I'm going away for a bit," I told Quinn as I took a sip of my coffee. We were sitting in a small cafe just around from my apartment. Quinn narrowed her eyes at me, watching me in silence and flicking her bangs out of her eyes (which is pointless because they flip straight back over her eye).

"When?" she whispers, finally breaking the silence between us.

I shrug my shoulders. "As soon as I can."

"Where?" Quinn is still frowning at me, she seems to have completely forgotten about the cappuccino sitting in front of her which is slowly starting to get cold.

Again, I shrug my shoulders. "Anywhere. I can't be here anymore," I tell her simply. I cannot bear to be in New York anymore. Not when every single thing here reminds me of Brittany. We had moved here together. Explored here together. We'd shared endless kisses and picnics in Central Park. It was Brittany's favourite part of New York because she got to watch and feed the ducks. We spent hours on end sitting on the bench by the lake watching the little ducklings being lead around by their mums. We had gone to the top of the Empire State Building because Brittany wanted to feel what being on top of the world would look like and we spent hours looking around at the vast city around us which we had both fallen in love with. Times Square reminded me of the first night we spent in New York. It had felt so overwhelming at the time, and Brittany was so excited and wouldn't stop dancing. Brittany did that when she was excited; she danced.

These days, every corner that I walked around, somehow reminded me of Brittany. I would catch a glimpse of something and it would trigger a memory of the blonde. Even something so simple as a water taxi- Because that's where I took Brittany on our first New York date- or even just a bus - Because every now and again we would jump on the first bus that came past, not caring where it was going and we would ride it till the end of the line and see where we ended up. We found lots of awesome places doing that. It was fun, it was adventurous and it made Brittany smile, and I would do anything to make Brittany smile, because I loved her smile.

I swallowed back the memories, pushing them to the back of my head. I couldn't think about her anymore. It hurt too much. It was one year after Brittany had told me she was pregnant but it still felt like it was yesterday when she was standing in my room at my grandmothers, breaking the news to me. I had known she was keeping something from me, but I never expected it to be that.

At first I tried to ignore it, but it got hard to ignore when Brittany's belly kept getting bigger and bigger. It was an everyday reminder that she had shared herself with someone else, and they had given her something that I never could. That made me angry because I wanted to be the only one to give Brittany what she wanted and now someone had gone ahead and ruined that.

Eventually, it got too hard to look at her and I felt bad for blaming her and taking it out on her because it made her upset, and if there was one thing in the world I hated most, it was seeing Brittany upset. It broke my heart into a thousand fucking pieces.

"Santana?" Quinn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm, what?" I scrunched up my eyebrows. I hadn't heard her saying anything to me. I was too caught up in memories. Memories that used to make me smile like an idiot, and now they only broke my heart.

"How long will you be gone for?" Quinn's voice seemed concerned, her eyes filled with worry.

"I don't know, Quinn. I don't care, either."

Quinn huffed in frustration and stirred her now cold coffee mindlessly. Drops of coffee spilled over the sides of the cup, but she didn't seem to notice.

"What about your job?" She asked, lifting her gaze back onto me and dropping the spoon onto the table. I sighed deeply.

"What about it?"

"You love your job, are you really just going to quit?"

"I _like _my job. I don't _love _it," I told her. I had been working as an intern at the local hospital since we moved here two years ago. It payed well, so I wasn't complaining but it meant long hours at all hours of the day.

Quinn ran a hand carelessly through her hair. "Since when?" She asked dropping her hand back to her lap.

"Do you know the reason why I got that job, Quinn?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at my best friend. She shook her head slowly. "I'm sure that I would be the last person on earth you would ever think would become a doctor, right?" I laughed dryly.

This time, it was Quinn who shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she said quietly.

"Do you know how hard it is to be a dancer these days, Q?" Again, Quinn shook her head. "It's expensive and it's hard to get your foot in the door. Especially in New York because the best dancers come to New York, you know?"

"You did it for Brittany?" Quinn asked, finally connecting the dots.

I nodded my head, narrowing my eyes and dropping my gaze to my empty coffee cup. "I did it for Brittany.." I repeat slowly.

"Why?"

I took a deep breath, counting up to five in my head before releasing the air through my nose. "Because I love her, and she wanted to be a dancer and I wanted to help her get there. If I had to work shitty hours at a job that I didn't completely love, then I was okay with that if it meant Brittany was happy. You don't get paid much being a dancer when you're just starting off, so I got a job which would pay for both of us." I had never told anyone the truth to why I suddenly wanted to become a doctor. Not even Brittany knew, she wouldn't have let me do it otherwise. But, like I said, I would do anything to make that girl happy.

It's not like being a doctor made me unhappy, I did quite like my job and I made some good friends with my colleagues. It was a satisfying job and despite what other people might think, I liked being able to help people. It felt good walking into a patients room knowing that I had done something to save their life, that I had done something to make their life better or that I had done something that no one else could. Their smiling faces was always rewarding and would make me smile too. But I didn't have to work there anymore and because of it, I had saved quite a bit of money. Money I was planning on using to take Brittany somewhere special or something. But now I was planning something else. My escape. My own adventure. I had to get out of New York. I felt like I was suffocating here. I honestly didn't care where I went, as long as I went somewhere.

"Brittany was really lucky to have you, Santana," Quinn said sadly. I looked at her, my eyes full of scepticism. "I know what she did sucks, and I know you're hurting," I glared at her and she quickly added, "you can't hide it from me, San. I know you're heart is broken and that you still love her. I don't know why she did what she did, and a little bit of me hates her for it as well. But San, you need to move on."

"That's why I'm going away for a bit," I admit. "I need some time to myself, where I can think. I need to be somewhere where not everything reminds me of... _her. _Then maybe I can come back here and everything will be okay again." I frown slightly at my own words and my own honesty. Usually I would run as far as I could before bringing up my emotions like this. Quinn really was good at opening people up.

"I understand that, S, I do. But maybe there is a better way to do it."

"Like what?" I was getting frustrated now. I was sick of talking about this subject and I didn't want her trying to talk me out of this. It's what I wanted to do.

A small silence fell between us again and I watched Quinn shifting uncomfortably in her chair. She crossed her arms against her chest and rolled her eyes at me. "I don't know Santana, okay? But I don't think running away is going to solve anything."

I laugh at this. A dry, throaty laugh which makes Quinn scowl at me. "I'm not running away, Quinn. Like you can talk anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn huffs at me.

I fold my arms over my chest, mirroring Quinn's previous actions. "You dropped off the face of the earth after you gave your baby up for adoption in high school. You wouldn't talk to anymore, you became a whole new person and_ you _ran away. To here, in fact. New York. It was Puck who came all the way just to find you and haul your ass back to Lima."

"And that is exactly what you are doing!" Quinn retorted angrily.

"No," I said shaking my head slightly. "You ran away from Lima because you didn't want people judging you. You were sick of people staring at you, laughing at you, judging you. You weren't top dog at school anymore, and you couldn't deal with that. You were running away because you were regretting giving your baby up for adoption. I'm leaving to explore a little bit and have fun so that I can come home and start fresh."

Quinn's eyes soften at my words. "Okay," she said it so quietly, that I almost had to get her to repeat it.

"Okay?" I asked, just to double check that I had heard her correctly.

"Yes. I get where you're coming from. You're right, I ran away from my problems for the wrong reasons. You are runni- _leaving, _because you need space from all your memories and a chance to find yourself again. You and Brittany had been together for ages, you probably need time to figure out who you are without her, right?"

I nod, my heart feels heavy in my chest. It sounds stupid hearing it from someone else. It made me sound so weak and like I was giving up. I mean, who leaves a city just because there are too many good memories? No one. Usually people like being somewhere that only brings them good memories. But they hurt too bad. And I can't deal with them anymore. At least, not right now...

**Quinn's POV, same day. **

I had never seen Santana so down and so defeated. Usually she was so feisty and powerful. It was weird and so unusual to see the Latina telling me that she couldn't deal anymore and that she just had to get out.

I get it, I do. But I still feel like she is doing this for the wrong reasons. Running away from your problems doesn't solve anything, I would know. I have had my fair share of problems. I mean, going from the most popular girl at school, to being a teenage mum, to giving my baby up for adoption, to running away, to becoming someone else which pink hair, a tattoo, piercings who smoked, did drugs and drank alcohol. I have definitely had my fair share of ups and downs, which were mostly in high school.

What Brittany did was wrong, and that is coming from me. Someone who used to constantly cheat on my boyfriends in school. I was a pretty shit person through school come to think about it.  
Although Santana is putting up a good front, I can tell that her heart is still broken. Brittany was her first true love, the person who helped her realise that she was a lesbian. They used to be permanently attached at the hip, where one was, the other was usually close by. It must be hard trying to adapt without your second half after being with them most of your life.

I felt sorry for Santana, she had finally opened up to someone, just for them to do this to her. It wasn't fair. It made me so angry at Brittany. It was hard to believe someone like poor, innocent Brittany could cause so much havoc on someone's life. Sure, she was never the sharpest tool in the shed, but I thought she knew better than that. I know that Brittany didn't do this on purpose, but the fact was that she had done it and there was nothing anyone could do about it now. She would have already had the baby.

As I sat in the coffee shop opposite Santana, I couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten so out of control. I reached over and squeezed her caramel hand in my pale one.

"It's going to be okay, San. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but everything will be okay." I tried my best to reassure her, but despite the fact she nodded, I could tell she didn't believe my words.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked, trying to coax some more information out of her while she was finally starting to open up to me.

She shrugged a shoulder. "London," she said after a beat. Something flashed through her mocha eyes, but I didn't recognise what it was, and it was gone as soon as it appeared.

"Why London?" I asked.

"Because Brittany would hate it there." I look at her with a confused expression fixed on my face. "Brittany hates the cold," she elaborates. Oh.

Yeah, she was definitely leaving for all the wrong reasons.


	4. Chapter 4

**Santana's POV**

I hear her before I see her. I could hear her voice in a crowded room and still know exactly who it was and find where it was coming from within seconds.

I glance around nervously. I can hear her laugh ringing around the small shop. Bouncing off the walls and echoing around me. It was so heavenly and light that it made me feel like I was floating.

That's when I see her.

She is standing at the checkout, talking to the cashier. She throws her head back slightly as she laughs at something he says.  
He is just a young kid, his face covered in acne and his curly hair was slightly greasy. He was probably trying to hit on her.

A surge of anger, mixed with jealously flash through me before I remember that she's not mine to be jealous about anymore.

Then I see that she isn't alone.

Standing next to her, is a little girl. Probably over one year old. A tiny little girl with curly blonde hair.

I take a step backwards. The shop we're in is only small. If she turns around then we will be facing each other. I have nowhere to hide. I have to get to the exit before she finishes talking to the leering teen who has his gaze fixed to her chest.

_Fucking pervert. _I think to myself. I have the urge to walk up to him and punch the smirk off his face but I fight it. _She has a kid, and you're still trying to flirt with her. _I have to get out of here.

I quickly turn around, and make my way to the exit as fast as I can.

But I'm not fast enough.

I left it too late.

I shouldn't have watched her for that long.

Hell, I shouldn't have watched her at all. I mentally slap myself. _Idiot! You're such a sucker, Santana. _

"Santana!" I freeze at the sound of her voice calling out my name. I stop dead on my tracks, almost toppling over as my legs stop moving. It sounded so perfect, so angelic. It made me realise how much I missed her. I took a deep breath before turning to face her, trying to force a smile on to my face. It doesn't reach my eyes though, and I can tell Brittany knows it's a fake smile by the way she furrows her eyebrows and sucks in her bottom lip.

"Hey," she says as she takes the final steps until she is only a meter away from me. She is so close that I can smell her perfume. I shut my eyes and count to ten before I reopen them again.

She has a confused expression on her face, her eyes are sad.

"Hi," I simply reply with a small nod of my head. I'm trying to keep my gaze at her face or past her head or to the side. I'm trying to keep my gaze anywhere but the little girls face. She's perched on Brittany's hip and I can see the little girl's eyes on my. I can feel them burning through my flesh. If I don't look at her, it's easier to pretend that this isn't real.

"How are you?" she asks me. I don't know why she is bothering when I know that she knows I don't want to talk to her. Maybe she's being hopeful. Maybe she doesn't realise that what she did was wrong. Maybe she just doesn't fucking care.

I shrug my shoulders. "Perfect," I say sarcastically. "You?" I don't know why I'm asking. I should just tell her that I need to go, that I have somewhere I need to be, or anything just to get out of there.. But I don't. I know that I'm asking because I still love her. I'm asking because I need to know that she is okay.

She smiles at me, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I miss you," she replies. I break eye contact with her then. It hurts too much to look at her and not blurt out that _I miss you too, Brittany. More than anything. I want you back. Please, just come back to me. _

Instead, I just nod and purse my lips together. Just in case my words carelessly slip out of my mouth. I don't seem to have any control over my body when it comes to Brittany.

"Um.." Brittany seems nervous all of a sudden which makes my eyes snap back to hers. "This is Ally.." she says, nodding her head towards the little girl in her arms.

I smile slightly at the little girl, forcing my eyes to look at her. She looks exactly like Brittany, only a tiny version of her. Her blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail, her bright, blue eyes are sparkling as she smiles a gummy smile.

"Hi Ally," I say. It's hard not to genuinely smile at the little girl. I have to admit, the kid is adorable. Of course she was adorable. Brittany made her after all.

_Shut up Santana! _I tell myself. _You're not fucking helping yourself. Just leave. Get out. _

"I better go," I say, looking down at my feet and toeing the ground before looking back up. Brittany's eyes are filled with sadness. She doesn't want me to go, I can tell. But it's too hard. She can't expect me to forgive her that easily. She nods in understanding.

She holds her hand up to wave goodbye.

That's when I see it.

It glints in the light.

I can't believe I missed it before. It seems so big on her tiny hand.

A ring. An _engagement _ring.

"Are you okay, San?" She asks suddenly. I can feel all my blood rush out of my face. My legs start to shake.

"You're... You're married?" I manage to blurt out.

She stops. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks at her hand which is still raised. Noticing the ring on her finger, she quickly drops her hand.

"Shit," she mumbles. "San.."

"Don't call me that," I mutter angrily.

"Santana," she takes a step towards me and I instantly take a step away from her.

"Don't," I warn her. It feels like my heart is breaking all over again. First she cheated on me, then she got pregnant and now.. Now she is getting married. I blink away tears and take another step backwards. I don't have a right to be angry at her. Not anymore. I broke up with her. She's allowed to get married. But it still fucking hurts.

"Santana, please.." she tries to explain, but I cut her off with a wave of my hand.

"Just.. Just don't Brittany." My voice wavers slightly as I try swallow the lump which has formed in my throat. "I can't do this, Brit." I say before I turn around and run.

I run until it feels like my lungs are about to explode.

I can feel the tears streaming down my face, but I don't stop to wipe them away.

I run all the way to Quinn's apartment.

By the time I get there, I'm heaving for air. I can taste blood in the back of my throat, sweat and tears dripping down my face. I pound on the door, still gasping for air.

I can hear footsteps on the other side, coming closer before the door swings open.

"What the hell Santana!? Are you okay?" Quinn's worried voice sounds from inside, but I can't see her through all my tears.

"She's getting married," I blurt out, before I collapse into her arms.

**Quinn's POV**

It takes me an hour to calm Santana down and to get her breathing back to normal. For a while there, I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance.

Eventually though, her breathing evened out and her face stopped being so red and she looked like normal again.

When she calmed down enough, I sat next to her on the couch and turned to face her.

"San.." I had to go about this the right way. If I bombarded her with the wrong questions then she could put her walls up and I wouldn't be able to help her. "What happened?"

She takes a deep, shaky breath. "I saw her in a clothes shop," she replied simply. "I saw her kid.. and her wedding ring.." Oh.

"Are you okay?" I instantly regret asking. It was a stupid question.

"I'm fucking peachy, Quinn. Just _fucking _great!" She says, throwing her hands up in the air. I wince slightly.

"I'm sorry, dumb question," I lean over and take her hand in mine, squeezing it gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head softly.

"Okay, are you hungry?"

Again, she shakes her head. There's a long silence. I don't say anything because I can see she wants to say something. So I hold my mouth shut, willing her to tell me.

Eventually she says, "I'm going to go to London next week."

I furrow my eyebrows. "What? Why?" I knew she was wanting to go away, but I half expected her to change her mind.

"I just can't be here anymore," she says. She sounds defeated and tired and sad.

I pause for a second, thinking. Trying to find the right words to say. "Okay," I finally say.

She looks up at me, with a confused look on her face. "Okay?" She asks.

I nod my head. "Okay. If what you need is to go away for a bit, then go for it." She eyes me off for a minute, trying to work out if I'm being serious or not.

But I am being serious. At first I thought it was a bad idea, but I can see now that she is struggling so badly here. I know that she just wants a break. Somewhere where she has no chance of running into Brittany or anything that reminds me of her.

It would be hard, I can understand that. I need to let her go so she can deal with this in her own way.

She smiles. The first genuine smile that I have seen on her face in a long time.

It's the last thing I need to know that this is the right thing for her. All she needs is time away by herself to deal and get over losing the love of her life.

If only it were that easy...

xx

**Santana's POV**

As I stepped out of the airport and onto the underground train heading into the city, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. It was only last week that I was telling Quinn that I wanted to move to London, and now I was here. In the big city itself, trying to lug my giant suitcase through the bustling crowd. I still had my whole life ahead of me and I was choosing to spend it running away. I hadn't been happy, but I honestly didn't know if this was going to make me feel any better. I felt trapped and under pressure and stressed. I thought moving away would fix it, make me happy. I hadn't thought about how lonely it would be. But running away from my problems wasn't the answer. Your problems are always with you, no matter how far away you run, I was stupid to think they would vanish in a different country.

I don't know what I was expecting about moving to London. I was hoping I would move and figure out exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to fall out of love with the only person in my life I ever _have _loved.

It seemed like it was going to be impossible, but I had to try...

**Twelve months later.**

My head was throbbing when I woke up. The light seemed to burn through my retinas.

_God damn hangovers_. I thought to myself.

I slowly lifted my head, ignoring the pounding and dizziness. I looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell I was.  
This had become a bit of a routine for me.  
It felt like high school again, in a way.

Go out, hook up and then go home with them.

It was a shit way of living, I knew that. But it was my way of getting over.. _her. _

Somehow I thought sleeping with as many people as I could find would help forget about her. After all, all she had to do was sleep with _one _other person and she had already forgotten about me, so in my head it seemed to make sense that the same would happen to me.

Only, it didn't work.

Nothing I did would make me forget. I still remember what her touch on my skin felt like, the taste of her in my mouth, the sound of her voice, her laugh, the glint in her eyes when she smiled... It was all still there. And no one else ever felt as good as Brittany did.

I stood up, forcing down the bile which threatened to rise from my stomach and pulled on my clothes as I found them scattered around the room.

When I found everything, I quietly made my way through the house, trying to find the front door.

"Ahhh, Santana!" A voice came from behind the kitchen counter. I paused before turning to face the voice.

She honestly didn't look familiar.

I couldn't even think of her name.

Andrea? No. Sally? No. Kate? No. Emily? No. _Fuck._

The only reason I knew that she was the one that I slept with, was because she was the complete opposite to my type.

I had made a habit of finding people who looked the opposite to Brittany. It was easier that way. Stupid, I know.

This girl had red hair and green eyes. She was cute, but she wasn't as cute as...

"How do you feel this morning? You were pretty gone last night," she said with a smile.

I stepped closer to her. "Like shit," I admitted. My voice sounded dry and raspy because of all the alcohol. She just smiled, her white teeth gleaming.

She was pretty...

"Water?" She asks, handing me a glass. I nod and take it from her with a small 'thanks' and skull it. It feels nice and soothing, running down my dry, scratchy throat.

"Hungry?" She asked me.

I shook my head slowly. "I think I would throw up if I ate," I tell her with a grimace. "I think I might head off, go back to my hotel and sleep forever," I say with a small laugh. She nods in understanding.

"I had fun last night," she says, her grin widening. I wince slightly. This was the part I hated.  
Trying to get away from a one night stand was never fun.  
It was awkward.

I should have a routine by now. But I don't. Not really.

Sometimes I manage to sneak out before they wake up.

Other times, like this morning, I find excuses.

_Sorry, I'm going back to America tomorrow. _

_Sorry, I'm just not looking for anything other than sex right now. _

_No, sorry, I'm busy every single day this week. _

_Sorry, I can't. _

_No, I don't want to. _

_You're too good for me. _

_I would only ruin you. _

The last two I've never actually used on anyone, but I've thought them.

I quickly make my exit after telling her that, _sorry, I'm going home soon, but if I'm ever back in London I will definitely give you a call. _I kind of feel bad for lying to her. She seems genuinely nice and interested in me.

But I can't.

When I get back to my hotel, I collapse on the bed and fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow.

I'm woken up by the sound of my phone ringing.

It makes my whole head ring all over again.

I try to ignore it, but whoever is trying to call just won't let up.

I sigh deeply, grab my phone and without looking at the caller ID, put it up to my ear.

"What?" I huff.

"San?" I sit bolt upright, which makes the whole room spin around me, but I ignore it.

"Berry?" I ask, confusion pulsing through me.

"Yeah, Santana. It's me, Rachel."

"What do you want?" I ask, feeling fed up and angry. Whatever drama Rachel wants, I can't be bothered. But her next sentence makes me not hang up on her.

"It's Brittany." She says it so quietly that I almost have to ask her to repeat herself.

"What about her?" I ask, trying not to sound to phased.

"She's.. she's.." Rachel sniffs, and it's then that I realise that she's crying.

"Berry, what the hell happened to Brittany?" My voice has gotten louder and frantic.

There's a short pause on the line, and for a minute I thought we had been cut off, but then I hear Rachel sniffle on the other end.

"Berry!" I shout.

"Santana, Brittany is in hospital..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Santana's POV**

I got the first flight back to New York.

I didn't care that it cost me a lot since it was last minute, or that it didn't leave till 2am.

I didn't care that I had to sit in between two large, middle aged men who smelt slightly bad and kept trying to hit on me.

I didn't even care that the flight attendant accidently dropped a glass of water in my lap.

Normally any of those things would have brought out my temper and Snix would have made an appearance. I would have kneed the men in the balls and slapped the flight attendant or demanded a better seat. I would have gone all Lima Heights on their arses.

But not today.

All I could think about what the one person I had desperately been trying to get out of my mind for the past year.

It made me angry that no matter what I tried, she always had me running back to her. But she needed me. I still loved her. Not that I was going to tell her that. She didn't need to know that I was hopelessly still in love with her after she broke my heart.

Rachel hadn't told me much on the phone.

Just that she was in hospital.

I could tell that there was something she wasn't telling me, but she hung up before I could get it out of her. The tone in her voice was enough to tell me that it was bad.

The fact she rang me told me that I needed to come home.

Rachel wasn't one for conflict. She tried to avoid it at all costs, so for her to have rung me is saying something since we have never really gotten along that well.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate Berry.. But for some reason we just never warmed up to each other all that much.

By the time I arrived at the hospital where Rachel told me Brittany was, it was already six in the afternoon. I had hardly any sleep, I probably looked like a rotting corpse, but I had to see her.  
I went straight to the hospital, without even bothering to go back to my apartment to get rid of my bags or have a shower or change my clothes.

That could all wait.

I saw Quinn first.

She was sitting in the waiting room with her head in her hands. Next to her was Rachel, who was slouched in her chair staring out the window with a distant look on her face.

I rushed over to them, dropping my bags on the ground with a loud _thud._ It made them both jump out of their chairs in shock.

"Santana?" Quinn furrowed her eyebrows. "What are you doing here?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. Was it not obvious?

"Berry called me," Quinn glanced over at Rachel who had suddenly become very interested in the carpet on the floor and refused to meet Quinn's glare.

"Don't get mad at Berry," I continued. I knew Quinn was about to yell at Rachel, and as much as it would have been funny, I was thankful that Rachel had called me and I didn't want her to get in trouble from Quinn for it. Rachel shot me a grateful smile before looking back down at the ground.

Quinn got up slowly, pulling me into a hug.

"It's so good to see you. I really missed you San."

"I missed you too Q," I told her, pulling out of her arms.

"I'm glad you're home," Rachel said softly from her chair. She didn't bother standing up to hug me. She knew I wouldn't have accepted it willingly. Quinn sat back down, giving me a small smile.

"Is someone going to fill me in on what happened to Brittany?" I finally asked, looking at Quinn, then Rachel then back at Quinn. "Can I see her?"

"San.." Quinn started, then looked over at Rachel for help.

"She's in pretty bad shape, Santana," Rachel continued softly.

"What happened?" I gritted my teeth. I was getting impatient and Rachel and Quinn were being no help. "What happened?" I asked again when they both looked down at the floor.

"Maybe you should sit down," Quinn spoke up, patting the chair next to her.

"Quinn, just tell me. What the hell happened?" My voice was starting to rise, causing other people to look, but I didn't care.

Quinn bit her bottom lip. "San, please. Just sit down for a minute."

Reluctantly, I dropped onto the seat next to her and turned to face her.

"Spill," I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

Quinn took a deep breath. "San, her husband.. her husband abused her."

I felt a pang in my heart.

She was in hospital because someone purposely hurt her.

Her own husband.

How could _anyone _even want to hurt Brittany?

"What did he do?" I asked through my clenched jaw. I didn't want to know, but I _had _to know. "I want to see her."

"I don't think that's a good idea, S," Rachel finally spoke up, her voice sounded strained.

"Why the fuck not, Berry!?" I asked, standing back up.

"San, seeing her will just make you angry," Quinn said, standing up next to me.

"What is that supposed to mean, Quinn?" I was getting angrier by the second and it was taking everything in me not to hit Quinn and Rachel for trying to stop me from seeing Brittany.

"I just mean that you have always been protective over Brittany. She doesn't look good San and I know you are going to get mad when you see what he did to her," Quinn's voice was calm, but it wasn't reassuring me in the slightest.

"I'm already mad, Quinn.""

"I know Santana. And I know you, I don't want you to go in and see her if you can't handle it, that won't help Brittany at all."

I knew Quinn was trying to help. But she wasn't. What I needed was to see Brittany. I needed to see that she was okay. Or at least that she was breathing.

"I can handle it," I tried to quieten my voice to make myself sound calm. I knew Quinn wouldn't let me see her if I was still angry.

Quinn gave me a sceptical look and crossed her arms. I could tell she didn't believe what I was saying.

"Please Q," I pleaded. "I just need to see her." Quinn huffed in defeat, dropping her hands to her sides.

"I'm coming in with you though," Quinn said firmly.

"Seriously?" I raised my eyebrow at her. I didn't need a baby sitter.

"Yes, I come with you, or you don't go in at all." Quinn crossed her arms again, she wasn't going to drop this. Once Quinn had her mind set on something, there was no changing her mind.

"Fine," I muttered.

**Quinn's POV**

I walked Santana through to Brittany's room.

I knew Santana wasn't going to take this well, but Santana can be so stubborn, especially when it comes to Brittany.

Santana had always been protective over Brittany. It's how they became friends to begin with, when Santana beat up a bully who pushed the blonde over when we were 12. Ever since, they became attached at the hip and no one dared go near Brittany again. Because they knew Santana would come after them.

Everyone feared Santana. But they only ever saw her hard exterior, she never showed anyone the real her - the Santana with her walls down. Only me and Brittany ever saw that side of her.

That's how I knew Santana would be pissed when she saw how badly Ben had beat her up. Lucky for Ben, he was in police custody and Santana wouldn't be able to get to him.

I hesitated outside of Brittany's room and turned around to Santana.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" I asked her. I don't know why I even bothered to ask, I knew Santana wouldn't listen.

"I'm sure Quinn," she said with a nod. I could tell she was nervous though, she kept wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans.

"She looks bad San, but I promise you that she will be okay," I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before I opened the door and we both stepped in.

**Santana's POV.**

I didn't see her at first.

She looked so small lying in the hospital bed.

She was hooked up to all these different machines which were all making different beeping noises. Machines which were all trying to keep her alive.

I slowly walked towards her, ignoring Quinn behind me.

I had to fight tears back the minute I saw her face. It was purple, bruised and swollen. Her left arm was in a sling over her chest.

"What the hell happened, Brit?" I said, choking back tears. I felt Quinn's arm wrap around my waist but I stepped out of her embrace to step closer to Brittany.

I reached over and carefully brushed a stray strand of hair off her face.

Quinn was right.

It did make me angry to see her like this because off her husband.

It made me want to find him and do what he did to Brittany, to him.

"Britt?" I sat on the edge of her bed and picked up her right hand. "Can you hear me, Brit?"

"She hasn't woken up yet, San," Quinn said from behind me.

"How long has she been here?" I asked, blinking back tears.

"Three days."

I squeezed Brittany's hand tighter. "I'm here now, Brit. Please, you need to wake up."

Suddenly, the beeping on the machines got louder and faster.

"Quinn? What just happened?" I asked, my voice getting frantic.

"I- I don't know.."

The door burst open and four doctors rushed in.

"EP's dropping, get the paddles! She's going to crash!" One of them shouted.

"What's happened?" I asked them.

"Get them out of here!" One of the other doctors yelled, and then we were whisked out of the room.

"We're going to do everything we can to help your friend, but we need you to wait out here," the nurse told us, before shutting the door behind her, leaving us outside the room.

For the first time since I heard that Brittany was in hospital, I allowed myself to cry in Quinn's arms.


End file.
